


The Strongest Hearts are Easily Moved

by BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk



Series: sepelire securi [2]
Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: "Sixteen" Because The Present Day in this Series Takes Place in Spring 2019, Alternate Canon, Alternate Timeline, Alternate Universe, Company Dinner, Ghosts, Headcanon, I Do Not Understand Military Ranks, I Strongly Believe McNamara's Husband is Someone We Haven't Met Yet, In Which I Use Fanfic to Fill in the Blanks, M/M, Military Homophobia, Name Redaction, Nerdy Prudes Must Die Speculation, Some of these Original Characters are Just Preexisting Characters with Names, Yes Wilbur Cross has been Colonel for That Long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24567790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk/pseuds/BeatrixGtheMaskedDogNoobsomeExagerjunk
Summary: Hatchetfield's first ghost infestation made certain webs cross. Nothing can be more significant than the ghost tales of sixteen years ago.
Relationships: Emma Perkins & Jane Perkins (Mentioned), Jane Perkins & Original Character, John McNamara/Original Male Character(s)
Series: sepelire securi [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751995
Kudos: 3





	The Strongest Hearts are Easily Moved

**Author's Note:**

> watch my aro ass try to write something romantic

“Of course it’s fucking ghosts,”

“We are equipped, Sir,”

Cross laughed, placing a hand on McNamara’s shoulder, “No shit, John! Though, I was told by the General that it’s your first ghost case, huh?”

“I’m afraid so, Sir,” McNamara tensed up a little.

The two soldiers were headed to the meeting table in P.E.I.P., arriving together with the few other agents of the organization.

There awaiting was General Louis Wallace, representing P.E.I.P. for the year 2003.

“Soldiers,” Wallace roared, hands firmly gripping on the edges of the table, “we’re not getting anywhere with this ghost infestation touring around the country! If this keeps happening enough to get the President’s attention, he’ll know for a fact that we’re not doing our job.”

“Lee!” He cocked his head towards the direction of the theoretical physicist, “Anything of note?”

“I was meaning to inform you, Sir,” Xander Lee cleared his throat, “That the theories concerning the ‘dimension beyond dimensions’ may have some correlation with many of the discoveries of our organization, particularly ones of seriously dangerous note.”

“Do you insist that these specters are one of these ‘many discoveries?’”

“Yes, Sir. This phenomenon extends to most of the proven but unexplained phenomena that have been recorded, such as human clairvoyance, human prescience, certain performances of witchcraft, exorcisms, even the thoughts and processes of a number of the extraterrestrial entities that have been found by our organization.”

“Permission to speak, Sir?”

“Granted, Lieutenant Schaeffer.”

“Sir, I would like to bring up our lack of progress on the portal device that was requested by Doctor Lee-“

“Ah, of course,” Wallace grimaced, “the lack of funding towards our unit will seriously cost this country. We‘ll have to find some way to increase our funding if we want it done right away. It would certainly accelerate Lee’s work and hopefully, lessen the rampant hauntings and ghost infestations. With the conditions we have right now, we can’t just hide jack shit forever,”

“How much longer do we have to go, Lieutenant?” Lee asked Schaeffer, “For the portal’s construction, that is.”

“At our current rate, about two years.”

“General Wallace, what about the ghosts?” Cross was impatient, “Do we have a location?”

“We do, Colonel Cross,” The General pulled a toothpick and placed it in his mouth, “Hatchetfield, Michigan. I swear the place might as well be the door to Hell with all the shit that we managed to find there!”

“At least it’s no Gravity Falls, Sir,” Cross snarked, “Anomalies from over there have been filling up the inbox.”

“Weird ass town, that Gravity Falls,” Wallace crossed his arms. “The trail to Oregon will have to wait, Colonel.”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Anyways,” Wallace opened the folder that was resting on the table. “Our ghosts are a mixed bunch! We’re talking interactives, banshees, phantoms, possessives, and even that kind you invoke in your prayers. It’s an extra tough one, soldiers.”

He closed the folder, “My orders are to be discreet, soldiers! Just because I already messaged the Governor of the damn island doesn’t mean you’re free to spook the folks there. They. Can. Not. Know. Don’t lay a finger on anyone, either. If any casualties are unavoidable, make sure to enact the contingency plan, alright?”

“Sir, yes sir!”

“Am I clear, soldiers?!”

“Understood, sir!”

“Now get yourselves ready,” Wallace began to clear the table, “we leave at 11 O’clock AM!”

As the soldiers walked out, Wallace stopped McNamara.

“A brief word, Lieutenant Colonel?” He pulled him aside.

“Is anything of concern, Sir?”

“Just a little heads up, given that this is your first ghost case,” Wallace then distanced himself a little from McNamara.

“What the books don’t tell you are how those ghosts are like when one’s in their vicinity. Know this, John,”

He nodded.

“You know they’re nearby when your vision gets clouded and the air on your pores get cold. If there’s anything on sight that’s glitching like a chipping mirror, they’re right there, alright?”

He nodded again.

“You do have decent depth perception, right?”

“My eyes are well, Sir.”

“Good,” A hand on a tense shoulder. “...you doing alright, John?”

“It’s not of concern, Sir,”

“If it’s about feeling soft, that’s fine,” Wallace smiled, “the shit we do here in P.E.I.P. ain’t average. It’s special! Another thing you gotta know in dealing with ghosts, particularly those interactives, is having a strong heart.”

McNamara was surprised, albeit not visibly.

“The strongest hearts are easily moved—moved to love, moved to power, moved to choice.”

“I’m afraid I do not understand, Sir,”

“Until you’ve been here as long as I have, no one usually does,” Wallace replied. “Most especially Colonel Cross, that perverted bastard,”

“Sir?” McNamara voiced his confusion.

“Caught him staring at some barely legal ladies the last P.E.I.P. night-out! At least he ain’t a queer to boot,”

“Sir!” McNamara repeated in appalled discomfort.

“The chaos of the multiverse isn’t gonna change my God-given principles, Lieutenant Colonel. May it not change yours,”

“I find that endeavor difficult, Sir. I-I’m rather surprised at your statement, Sir.”

“Are you offended, soldier?”

McNamara gave Wallace an unsure expression.

“Don’t fucking look at your General like that, Lieutenant Colonel!”

“Most members of this organization don’t exactly fit your principles, if I know you correctly, Sir.”

“No shit,” Wallace spat out his toothpick. “Of course I get shafted with the misfits and the abominations, having to work in the hardest unit of this wonderful country’s military!”

McNamara tried to talk back but Wallace stopped him, “It’s a good thing you ain’t one of them, am I right, John?”

A sliver of disagreement escaped the Lieutenant Colonel, alerting Wallace to keep his eyes on McNamara’s person.

Wallace gave McNamara a glance of a once-over. 

They both knew he could tell despite knowing so little. It’s the perks of working for P.E.I.P. for so long.

“You’re property of the United States, Lieutenant Colonel McNamara.”

“I...know my place, Sir.”

“I know, John, and I know you know the rules too,” Wallace almost sounded condemning of him. 

“‘Don’t ask about it, don’t even tell about it!’ That’s the rule, right?”

McNamara did not respond.

Sighing, “Get ready, John. We’re leaving in 30.”

* * *

"You better hope that new Lightning Steakhouse and Bar is real good, Jane,”

“When have I ever disappointed any of you?”

It was a few days before Halloween 2003, and the insurers of Hatchetfield’s local auto-insurance firm were headed uptown to a new restaurant for dinner. 

Jane Perkins, 24 years old, was the firm’s youngest and most productive insurer. She tried this new restaurant by herself a week prior and has been eager to treat her coworkers, most especially that it was her boss’s birthday that day. They were close.

It was at this particular time, in this decorated location, that certain events happened.

“How much hope do you think you’ll have now that you’re 30?” One of her co-workers asked.

“God, I could sure use it given that you just brought it up, [ **REDACTED** ]!” 

Jane’s boss was neat and striking in dress, wore strong flower oils over men’s cologne, and carried himself with an energy one can find from a man burdened by literally everyone he came across.

“Mr. Jay, come on,” Cut in another coworker, middle-aged and almost as dapper as the boss she was addressing, “I’m older than you and I’m still single. You don’t need to complain,”

“You’re a woman in her mid-40s, Ms. [ **REDACTED** ].”

“Of course, you’ll say that,” Her voice was raspy from her obviously frequent cigarette smoking.

“Hey, who knows?” Jane butted into the conversation in an optimistic tone, “Perhaps your one true love might waltz right in here through that door!”

“Jane’s right, Mr. Jay. I met my husband in a restaurant, you know? Though, I was the one waltzing into it,”

“Do try and motivate me, Faith.”

Faith had been around a year longer than Jane ever did. She was a mother who just got into her groove in raising a child. A proud Episcopalian as well.

“Well, I was 21 and,” Faith tapped her fingers against the table, giggling, “he was 20. Scrappy young adults somehow prepared for happy little accidents,”

“I thought your daughter was born a year or two ago—“

“That’s not what happened next, [ **REDACTED** ]!” Faith raised her voice at her coworker. “He was unemployed, and I was hustling as a call-center agent for the CCRP building in Hayestown,”

“You were from Hayestown? Like, in Wisconsin?” This was from Hugh, the intern who Mr. Jay was generous enough to invite.

“Born and bred...until a sense of ambition hit me—“

“Get back to the story, Faith,” The boss snapped her back into focus, “And don’t bring up Hayestown ever again, God,”

“Oh, Mr. Jay. You of all people would think the rest of the cake to be bland,”

“You feed me icing and call it a story?” He snarked back. His voice was biting and piercing enough to bring anyone’s knees shaking in fear.

“I-I mean, we met, dated, got married, had a baby! Very standardized.”

“Oh you’re right, that’s really boring,” Mr. Jay reclined on his chair languidly, “unlike me, ha!”

“What’s wrong with Hayestown?” Hugh asked innocently.

“Nothing you need to know, alright, Murphy?!” He snapped back.

“Y-yes, Sir,” Hugh cowered a little into his seat. He was 19.

The waiter then arrived and gave the six on the table the menu. After a minute of arguing as to how to pay for the bill, each of them rationed an amount (except for Mr. Jay, who was told that he didn’t have to pay) and agreed to order one of the appropriate group deals.

“How is your daughter anyway, Faith?” Jane asked her, the table conversation splitting into pairs.

“Oh, she’s growing so fast! I’m planning to set her up to a play date with the [ **REDACTED** ] girl soon!”

“The [ **REDACTED** ] family, huh?”

“They’re my friends from Church! Bill and his wife [ **REDACTED** ]? Surely, you’ve met them?”

“I’m not religious.”

“Ah, of course,” Faith tried to hide her sudden internal discomfort. “Their little girl’s named Alice! Our girls are the same age!”

“Isn’t that lovely?” Jane responded.

“Assuming you have plans, how’d you go about with kids, Jane?”

“I need my own house first, Faith!”

“I thought you had someplace to live?”

“It’s the Perkins house, yeah, but I’d feel much better knowing that I earned my home. Obviously I’ll need a husband too; if there’s one thing Mr. Jay and I have in common, it’s definitely the marriage thing.”

“If Mr. Jay can even get married—”

“Okay Faith, not the place.”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Really?”

“I believe Mr. Jay has every right to love as much the rest of us.”

“So if _‘you-know-what’_ were to be legalized here in Michigan, would you be for it?”

Before Faith could reply, the waiter returned with a pitcher of pink lemonade, iced glasses, and a salad bowl.

Suddenly, something odd occurred during the waiter’s service.

“What the fuck?!” Announced [ **REDACTED** ].

The waiter backed away at the sight: the salad bowl was floating in the air.

“Oh my God, the bowl is floating—“

A gargantuan whoosh of mist emerged from the salad bowl, causing the entire restaurant to panic.

Many people rushed outside, but t wo people were trapped in, though left untouched.

* * *

“M’am,” 

Faith, who was trying to calm Hugh down, was approached by one of the soldiers that had arrived just in time to catch the paranormal forces that invaded the new restaurant.

“Oh Sir, it’s a blessing for you and your men to save us!”

“Save that for later, Miss. Right now, I need you to tell me who you were dining with to see who’s missing.”

“We were six in total, Sir,” Faith tried to repress her panic, “including this young man and myself.”

“Names?”

“Faith [ **REDACTED** ]. The boy’s name is Hugh Murphy.”

“Names of the other four with you?”

“[ **REDACTED** ], [ **REDACTED** ], and J-Jane Perkins, S-Sir,” Hugh mustered out.

“And our boss,” Faith added, “Mr. Nathan Jay.”

“Do you two remember any of their whereabouts?”

“I saw Ms. [ **REDACTED** ] and Mr. [ **REDACTED** ] l-leave the place before you caught us,” Hugh answered.

“Noted,” The soldier then turned to who was clearly his superior. “Sir, we’re missing two people!”

“Who’re they, Colonel Cross?”

“A Jane Perkins and a Nathan Jay, Sir.”

“Alright!” 

The superior then called all the soldiers to him, said some inaudible commands, and then rushed the restaurant with the rest of his unit.

“W-What was that, Mrs. [ REDACTED ]?!” Hugh cried towards Faith.

“Something unholy, I bet.”

* * *

“[ **REDACTED** ] and Schaeffer—take to the reservation rooms. Cross and McNamara, I want you by the bathrooms and the kitchen. [ **REDACTED** ] and I will take care of the rest.”

“Yes sir!”

The six soldiers split as commanded once they entered the premises of the restaurant.

“Keep an eye out for ectoplasm ooze once you get them,” Wilbur whispered to John, “they’re cold, sticky, and they burn you.”

“Noted, Colonel,” The two rushed straight into the Authorized Personnel area of the restaurant, “I’ll take to the restrooms.”

Cross nodded as he busted open the doors to the kitchen, plasma pistol cocked and ready to fire.

The weapons the soldiers carried into the establishment were filled with pellets designed to restrict and immobilize the non-corporeal forms of ghosts. Those things were expensive to make, the materials to make them outsourced from a diverse set of suppliers and fashioned by scientists under P.E.I.P., including a secret list of scientists from associated organizations all over the world. I do not wish to get into the firearms that hold these pellets.

None of Wilbur’s steps echoed in the seemingly empty kitchen. Obvious signs that this was an interactive he was facing.

Ghosts classified as interactives were the hardest to restrain. Their full visibility to the human eye varied per person, but their effect on the environment was very obvious. The chill and mist they brought around them were colder than any other ghost, had the power to manipulate inorganic objects within their reach, and were generally noisy. Whether they can be reasoned with varies per ghost.

“Anyone there?” He called out, “If you’re not a ghost, I want your hands out!”

The sound of rummaging got the Colonel’s attention, faced to a pair of shaking arms up that just popped out from under a portable service table that was right next to his person.

“Slowly now,” He then reached for the hands and pulled the person out.

“Is your name Jane Perkins?”

“Y-Yes, Sir!” She was trying her hardest to stay calm, making a frantic but awkward punching motion from right fist to left palm. “Oh my God, what the fuck was that?!”

“Nothing you need to know, Miss. Right now I need you to keep close to me.”

Jane then proceeded to attach herself to the dashing soldier who saved her life.

While still alert, Wilbur tried to start a conversation with the woman to keep her calm.

“You live in this part of Michigan, Miss Perkins? Hatchetfield?”

“I’ve been here my whole life,” She replied, “Never really planned to leave.”

“Well, how’s that little plan of yours been?”

“I’m just glad I got the steady job thing off my checklist. D-Depending on my chances, I’m hoping for either a house or a husband next.”

“Shit, I didn’t think you had a literal plan!” He chuckled, eyeing the weirdly swaying cutlery, “What is that job, anyway?”

“I’m an insurer for [ **REDACTED** ]. I-It’s an auto-insurance firm.”

“Insurance, huh? You happy with the job?”

“I’ll be happy as long everything goes according to plan.”

“Ah.”

She sighed, “I was scared for a minute t-there. I’m most certainly not ready to die yet,”

“You got a strong will to live, Miss Perkins.”

“And you don’t, um, Officer?”

“I came in this line of work to give my all to the people of my country. Sometimes, it can mean giving up my will to live.”

“Sounds like my sister,”

“Really, now?”

“She may be a Junior in High School, but I’ve never met anyone so cynical,”

“Sounds like me alright.”

The two laughed briefly.

“You guys close?”

“I try. Don’t know if she doe--”

“Duck!” 

** BANG ! **

There was a glitch through the wall that quickly disappeared. The kitchen was suddenly warm again.

“It’s on the fucking move!”

“W-What?!”

“Shit,” Wilbur kept Jane close to his side, his grip on the plasma pistol tightening, “I need to get you the hell outta here!”

* * *

John was immediately alerted at the sound of scared whimpering when he entered the men’s restroom. It was coming from one of the cubicles.

The restroom in question wasn’t cold, nor were there any signs of mist. The place had nice tiles, the fairly new air fresheners still managing to mask the smell of piss from the urinals.

Another whimper came when John knocked on the cubicle in question. It was the last one, at the end of the room.

“I’ve come to rescue you, sir.” He said calmly.

“I’m not going out until those fucking things are gone!”

“It’s not safe here,” 

John almost felt the need to force the door open if it weren’t for the fact that the cubicle got unlocked.

When the door opened, John was suddenly facing one of the most charming men he had ever seen.

The man seemed immovable too.

John quickly tried to bring himself back to reality.

“Are you Nathan Jay, sir?”

He didn’t answer.

“Sir?”

“Y-Yes! I-I am—I’m him,” He was flustered, “I am he.”

“We need to get you out of here,” John told him, this time with a gentle tone that most would find uncharacteristic of him. P.E.I.P. always saw him as a stoic guy.

“A-Are those ghosts still out there?!” Nathan Jay was quite a panicky individual.

“Most likely,” Something clicked in the soldier’s brain. “You’ve encountered these paranormal entities before, Mr. Jay?”

“I fear they might actually be after me!” Nathan laughed out nervously, red in the face.

John raised an eyebrow.

“I-I mean,” Nathan tried his hardest not to look like an idiot, “the higher-ups of, u-uh, where I work—they usually send me to various branches all across the country! Every single move, I’ve always come across something oddly supernatural.”

“...and you disclose this to me?”

“You’re clearly one of those—what do you call them—t-those secret government guys who clean up the messes! I know you guys always say to shut up about it, b-but well...I felt this strong urge, t-to trust you.”

John hadn’t had this strong of a liking to another man in a long time. He was convinced he’d find his happiness in other things. Given his line of work, he knew he should’ve known better to expect surprises.

The soldier’s face reddened, “I’m glad you feel that way, Mr. Jay.”

“Oh,” Nathan couldn’t hide his slightly shy smile, “thank you.” For a moment, he didn’t feel afraid.

“Lieutenant Colonel John McNamara,” He held his hand out.

Nathan shook on it, not wanting to let go of this handsome creature before him.

Suddenly, the air went cold, the sound of gushing winds loud and audible.

“Shit! It’s here!” Nathan panicked out, holding tight onto John.

“Shh, it’s gonna be fine,” He pulled out his firearm as he reassured his rescue, his arm steady but moving due to the ghost's obvious invisibility.

A glitch from the opposite wall— **BANG**!

Glitch at Urinal #3— **BANG**!

Nathan panicked at every gunshot, overwhelmed by the situation. John kept Nathan by his side, carrying themselves closer to the door as he kept firing at the ghost.

Glitch by the right corner of the mirror— **BANG**!

Glitch at open cubicle door— **BANG**!

Silence.

No glitch.

Still cold.

“Is it safe yet, John?” Nathan asked.

“Not yet, Mr. Jay.”

“Y-you can call me Nathan,”

“Noted,” John held the guy closer to him, “Nathan.”

Nathan blushed.

“I-If things go wrong, um, Lieutenant Colonel—“

“I’ll make sure it won’t, Nathan.”

“But if it does,” Nathan tried his best to muster his courage, “I just w-want you to know that I...I-I really like you.”

John paused in his hunt, distancing himself a little to take a good look at Nathan’s handsome face.

“Ah shit,” Nathan panicked, “I-I thought—“

“Nathan,” John was internally surprised but pleased at this reciprocation.

“I, um...I’m sorry, I’m just really—“ Something in the mirror caught his eye, drawing and approaching quickly.

“—get down!” 

The last thing John remembered at that moment was that Nathan had swiftly grabbed his firearm, tackled themselves down to the floor, and—BANG!

Bullseye.

A humanoid figure shrieked as it glowed visibly from where Nathan had shot it, slowing oozing down with ectoplasm.

“Oh my God,” Nathan breathed, shakily placing down the plasma pistol onto the ground, watching the spectacle.

“What’s that goopy stuff?” He asked out loud, forgetting his current position.

“You just saved my life,” John blurted out. He was having mixed feelings about the lavender-scented weight on top of him, flustered and mushy, and now he just wished he could get up to go contain the ghost.

Nathan looked down to see John’s awestruck, flustered expression.

“Oh!” He then realized the position he and John were in, “This was not how I thought this would go,”

“Neither did I,” John blindly reached for his pistol to tuck back into his vest, eyes still locked at his savior.

“Does that goop disappear or—“

“It doesn’t.”

“Ah.”

The two were quiet. The chaos just now realized was being heard from outside the men’s restroom was still ongoing.

“I just,” Nathan slowly tried to get off John, “F-Forget what I—“

The last thing Nathan had remembered at that moment was that John had swiftly pulled him down for a kiss of reciprocation, a kiss the both of them had been hungry to receive for a long time.

They parted for air, continuing to look at each other.

“That’s,” John spoke instinctively, “to thank you.”

Nathan could only chuckle at this, escalating to just the two laughing together.

When they calmed down, Nathan then proceeded to get off John. He helped him up after.

John then approached the goop of ectoplasm on the floor, kneeling down to observe it closer.

> _ “Keep an eye out for ectoplasm ooze once you get them. They’re cold, sticky, and they burn you.” _

John reached into the many pockets on his vest, getting a P.E.I.P. Certified vial. Despite its small size to the amount of ectoplasm on the floor, the vial managed to contain all the goop.

When John stood up again, he looked to see Nathan who had been fondly curiously watching him in his work.

“Everything that occurred here is going to have to be strictly classified, Nathan.”

Nathan sighed, disappointed.

“I’m familiar with the rule, Lieutenant Colonel.”

* * *

It was 11 PM in the evening. It was Nathan’s (company-granted) car they were in. Due to the events that happened, the boss drove everyone to a McDonald’s drive-through. After this, he drove everyone home one by one.

“Are you doing alright, Jane?” He asked his best insurer.

“I’m ready to forget tonight, Mr. Jay,” Jane was at the back, popping a french fry into her mouth.

“I don’t think I could do that,” He reached for the soda as he made a left turn.

“I’m sorry about that, sir,”

A sip, “Oh no no, Jane—“ He stopped himself, feeling the heat in his own giddy smile.

“What, sir?”

“...it’s not something I should talk about,”

“We’re out of work, and we just went through something quite traumatic! It’s only fair that you get to.”

“You wouldn’t believe it,”

“After what happened today?”

Nathan hesitated to speak.

“Maybe on the phone is fine, if you’re still trying to register everything—“

“Tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, Ms. Perkins.”

The car was apparently at the Perkins’ residence.

“Happy Birthday, Mr. Jay,” Jane greeted as she exited the vehicle.

“Thanks, Jane.”


End file.
